


Ghost Prompt

by Wilson



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Creepy, F/M, Ghosts, Just a bit of fun, Romance, Sleeping is for the weak, Tumblr Prompt, editing, what editing?, writing fanfiction is better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:17:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilson/pseuds/Wilson
Summary: A bit of sillyness which grew from a tumblr prompt. Starring Souta as Paranormal Investigator, Kagome as Skeptical Older Sister/adult supervision, and Inuyasha as half-demon ghost, trapped for hundreds of years and ready to be set free... and interested in a certain modern miko.(Basically, "what if Inuyasha was never unsealed from the God Tree?")WARNING-- this is only generally edited. I apologize for typos. Like I said, a bit of fun.





	1. Kikyo

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is based off the following Tumblr idea-- 
> 
> "InuKag Ghost Hunters au (as mentioned by a lovely Anon earlier): Souta runs a ghost hunting web series and ropes his SkepticTM sister into joining him on his hunts, and one night they go to investigate this old run down Japanese mansion in the woods that’s apparently home to a sealed demon
> 
> said (half)demon takes a liking to the nice-smelling girl who isn’t scared by any of his poltergeist tricks, and spends the whole night they’re investigating trying to communicate with her through their equipment" 
> 
> All credit goes to Artistefish, Anon, etc. for the idea-- it is not mine. I just thought it would be fun to write. I may deviate from the idea a bit but basically I will stick to it. May be 3-4 chapters. Enjoy! :)

Chapter One-

The building was a hulking old thing. It vaguely resembled an animal crouched over in pain, keeling to one side—the effect was magnified with only the light of the moon shining down on the many dirty windows, sagging roof and faded, bulging walls. The porch seemed to sag over the four wide pillars that supported it, laboring under the weight of a mass of dead leaves, moss and other debris. The deck creaked ominously as the pair of lone figures mounted the steps and headed for the front door which swung on its hinges, revealing glimpses of shadows in the ruined foyer beyond.

“Well, no wonder people think this place is haunted.” Kagome Higurashi clicked on her flashlight and swung the wide beam over the cobwebbed, stained and generally creepy entrance to the old manor. “It’s practically screaming ‘ _film horror movie here_ ’.” She aimed the golden light at the cracked windows and noted that one of the panes still bore the manufacturer’s sticker in the corner. “You said no one who buys this place stays very long, right?”

Souta Higurashi, long suffering kid brother and part-time paranormal investigator nodded, barely glancing up from the old walkie-talkie he was fiddling with. “Yeah. There are all kinds of paranormal complaints and sightings here. Goes back _years_.” He rolled his eyes when his sister gave a skeptical scoff. “You know, you don’t have to come if you don’t like it that much.”

“What, and let you traipse around these dumps all night by yourself? What if you fall through the floorboards? You could wind up with tetanus or asbestos exposure or something.” She ruffled his hair as she added, not unkindly, “Mama would never forgive me if I let you get hurt chasing ghosts. Besides, what if there was some kind of crazy axe-murdering hobo in there?”

“Not very likely,” Souta clicked on his own flashlight and shone the light on the doorknob directly. Though the door itself wasn’t even closed all the way, there was a long strip of paper decorated with intricate kanji stuck from the edge of the knob on one side, reaching all the way to the door jam on the other. As they approached Kagome could see that the strip of paper was the only thing keeping the door from swinging open freely. “Warding spell.” Souta told her matter-of-factly.

“Against what, people without scissors?” Kagome mumbled under her breath. Souta jabbed his elbow into her ribs in brotherly retribution. “Hey, don’t laugh. Supposedly this is a spell cast nearly ten years ago by a powerful priestess—the last owners of the house were having trouble with the local ghost. It’s supposed to already have a sealing spell, but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

“Imagine that.” Kagome muttered.  
“Well my research says that no one has been able to get into the building in a decade because the spell is so stron— _hey_!” Souta squawked in alarm as his sister casually snatched the sutra off the door and crumbled it into a ball, tossing it over her shoulder. “How did you…”

“It’s just a piece of paper, Souta. Sheesh.” Kagome pulled the heavy door open with both hands, a bit surprised that such a flimsy paper could hold such a large weight for so long. _“Must have really stiff hinges or something.”_ She mused. A blast of cold, dank air blew her bangs back as the dark foyer was revealed. Souta snatched the sutra off the ground and followed his sister inside, storing the first piece of evidence for the night’s hunt in his rucksack for later analysis. _“Did she really_ have _to crumble it?”_

The carpet squelched as the pair stepped onto it, and not for the first time on one of these outings, Kagome wished she had sturdy, black, all-terrain boots like Souta’s. The consummate student, Kagome spent almost all her time in the classroom or the library, and never seemed to find herself in anything but her school uniform. Her loafers sank unpleasantly into the rotten flooring, and Kagome was vividly reminded that expanding her wardrobe might be worthwhile, even if it seemed a hassle.

“Oh _cool_ ,” Souta breathed, moving with less caution now that his fascination with the historical and the creepy was starting to kick in. “This must be the _carving_!”

“What carving?” Kagome added her flashlight beam to his, ( _“Can’t he ever want to hunt ghosts in places with working electricity?”_ she asked herself for the millionth time.) The combined light illuminated the far wall of the entryway, below the staircase. It was a wood paneled wall into which someone—obviously, a master at their craft—had carved a huge design depicting a tree into the center. The carving rose with the staircase, carved bark curling around the bannisters and up the walls. High above them, the branches of the tree spread and seemed to crawl over the beams that held up the second floor. It gave the impression that the whole house was built around the massive tree. For once, Kagome had to agree with her brother. “Ok, this is really cool. What is it?”

“ _This_ ,” Souta said triumphantly, “is the original spell.” He pointed at the center of the carved trunk, just above eye level for Kagome, a bit over his own head. Dead center of the tree there seemed to be a flaw in the trunk. A small scar, no bigger than a coin, marred the otherwise perfect image. “That little hole is a spell? It looks like someone shot the wall.” Kagome leaded forward to study it, shivering as the room seemed to get colder by the second. _“Should’ve closed the door, but I don’t remember it being so chilly outside… we were just out there.”_

“Yeah,” for the moment, Souta was heedless of the temperature as he went into Lecture Mode. “The story goes that the first spirit ever trapped here was done so deliberately, by a very powerful priestess more than four hundred years ago. It’s supposed to be the soul of a demon, or possibly a golem or ogre, the legends aren’t clear. This house was built waaaay after the demon’s body rotted away, using the wood of this special tree where the demon was pinned, and the stories say that after the last panel of wood was installed, the carving just appeared, along with the little hole. It’s a sign that even though its body is gone, the spirit remains sealed here by the spell. The hole is from the priestess. Supposedly the demon was too dangerous to get close to, so she had to shoot it with a bespelled dart or something.”

“Looks too small for a dart. Maybe an arrow… is it just me, or is it cold in here?” Startled, the siblings realized that they could see their breath… in June. “Ummm… Souta?”

“Cold spot!” The boy let out a excited cry and began rummaging through his bag, pulling out a small cylindrical video camera with a wide lens and viewing screen. On the screen Kagome could see the room represented in shades of red, yellow, orange and green. “That’s your temperature camera thing, right?”

“Infra-red.” Souta confirmed. “This can pick up heat signatures or cold spots that may indicate spirits are with us!”

“Heat signatures _or_ cold spots? Isn’t that a little vague?”

He waved his hand, intent on the little screen. “Hush.”

Interested despite herself, Kagome leaned over his shoulder, also studying the small screen as Souta moved the camera over the room in a slow sweep.

“There!” Excitedly, Souta gesture toward the screen which showed a large red mass right in front of them. Though she wouldn’t admit it, Kagome got a momentary thrill… until she looked up and saw what her brother was pointing at.

“Souta, it’s just a mirror. The heat signature is our reflection, not a ghost.” She felt relieved and… maybe a little disappointed as she patted his shoulder and grabbed her flashlight. “It’s nothing, see?” Kagome aimed the beam at the mirror, and jumped in shock. There was a word spelled out on the mirror’s otherwise dingy surface, like someone had drawn their finger through the thick grey layer of dust, leaving a few clean streaks that spelled out a name.

KIKYO


	2. The Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am making these a bit shorter chapters-- it just seems to make the most sense for the flow of the story. 
> 
> Once again, warning about the lack of editing. 
> 
> I hope you all find this as much fun as I do. I never thought I'd find an actual use for my Ghost Hunters binge watching! Hahaha.

**Chapter Two— The Demon**

 

The siblings stared at the mirror, and the name on it, spotlighted in the trembling beam of Kagome’s flashlight. Souta’s hand was still holding the thermal camera, but though the lens was pointed in the same direction as before the vivid heat signature was notably absent. His other hand was clenched on Kagome’s arm in a white-knuckle grip.

 

For a long moment, neither one of them spoke. Then, Souta’s brow furrowed and he murmured, “What is that… like a name or something?”

 

Hearing his voice helped Kagome to regain some of her composure—it seemed to lift the sudden sense of otherworldliness that the bizarre event had cast over the evening. Now, reminded of normality, it was easy to see that the mood and creepy atmosphere of the building had affected how she saw the coincidence of Souta seeing their own heat signature reflected in a mirror which happened to have a name on it… a name that, though certainly creepy, meant nothing to either of them.  “I have no clue… do you know anyone named Kikyo? Is that like a ghost thing?”

 

“Nuh-uh.” Souta shook his head and resumed his sweep of the room on the thermal camera, disappointed when the large heat signature did not reappear. “Usually ghosts say things like “help” or “go away”, or sometimes they say the names of the investigators, or their own names… some random woman’s name is a bit weird… though I guess it’s not unheard of. It’s too bad though, looks like whatever did that was scared off.”

 

“By what?” Kagome flicked her light around the room, revealing more rotting furniture, the dilapidated staircase and the magnificent tree carving… and nothing else. Now that the moment was broken, she felt silly for letting herself get caught up, even if it only had been a little. “Really lame interior decoration?”

 

“Hey!”

 

“Come on, look at this wallpaper! This place can’t have been stylish even when it was new!”

 

“Well, I guess you would know,” Souta replied with a touch of sarcasm as he headed for the nearest doorway. He still holding the IR camera in one hand, but now had fished out his GoPro and was turning it on with the other. “You know what would be the _height_ of fashion? Pink and purple!”

Now it was Kagome’s turn for an indignant “hey!”

\--

It was watching her. The human woman seemed unnaturally content to follow the child—the scent of the child told it the scrawny creature was male, though he was so much weaker than the female, not to mention the demon, that his presence was of no significance at all. The realization that this boy was obviously related to the woman didn’t faze the demon. The luminous red eyes that gazed from the rafters were focused on one thing, and only one thing.

 

Kikyo.

 

It did not know why she had returned, or how. It did not care. This was the woman-- no, the _witch_ \-- that was the cause of all its torment, the source of _centuries_ in this _prison_ …

 

The witch did not notice the skeletally thin, clawed hand that reached from the shadows, gleaming talons curled viciously, to hover above her head. The demon bared its teeth as it stalked its prey, bloodlust ruling its mind, its only desire being to kill, to maim, to visit upon this wretch all the suffering she had inflicted on him, he had died at her hand, and now she would… but wasn’t she already dead? She had been bloody… she had been crying…

 

All of the sudden, the hanyou was aware of the feeling of long hair on the tips of his fingers. Startled and confused at the sensation, at the realization that he was standing in the sphere of a very powerful pure aura, he abruptly darted back into the shadows, energy sizzling down his spine. What… Kikyo! She had tried to purify him!

 

Or… did she? As his ire calmed and his rational mind took over, the hanyou realized that he was not truly purified. Though Kikyo’s spiritual aura had made contact with his demonic one, and had certainly succeeded in suppressing the dark energy that had ruled him, he still felt as strong as usual... and Kikyo had not reacted to his presence. She was still talking casually  with the boy at her side, alternately helping him with his technology and bickering good naturedly as they set up a small black recorder on the stained kitchen counter.

 

For a moment he remembered crouching in the branches of a tree… how long had it been since anything pushed against his skin like that? So _solid_ , so real. For the first time in decades he was caught by the memory of an arrow, the _first_ arrow, fired over his head rather than into his heart like he had been expecting. _A warning shot?_ Intrigued, he crept closer.

 

\--

Kagome brushed idly at a cobweb as it caught in her hair. Creepy old house like this, who knew how many spiders and bugs were crawling around! Souta made some final tweaks to his equipment and stepped back as his recorder blinked red. “Ok,” he announced seriously into the little black rectangle; “starting our first EVP session of this investigation, this is Souta and Kagome, trying to make contact in the kitchen.”

 

Souta trained his camera on the recording device, zooming out so he could include as much of the surrounding area as possible. “Can you tell us who you are?” The boy asked the silent kitchen. Kagome held her breath to keep from adding white noise to the tape which might later be mistaken for a ghostly voice. Souta poured over these recordings for hours looking for ghostly voices or EVPs-- ‘electronic voice phenomena.’ She knew all too well how little input it took for a person listening closely for a voice to find one.

 

After a few seconds of silence Souta tried again “We are here to help you. My name is Souta and this is…” both siblings heard the soft sound, like a gust of wind groaning through the old structure. Kagome wondered how many holes there were in the siding of the house, for wind to be coming in; Souta pounced on his recorder. “Did you _hear_ that! Maybe we caught something!”

“It was just wind,” but he was already re-winding the recorder to play it back.

With the volume turned up they heard Souta's voice gurgle out loudly, the recording starting in the middle of his sentence “--outa and this is…” this time, amplified by the volume of the recorder and surrounded by the crackle of a cheap speaker, what sounded like a deep voice could be heard hissing out the word “ _Kikyo_ ”.

 

Souta’s eyes were as round as dinner plates. Hands on hips, Kagome felt strangely annoyed. “I’m _Kagome_ .” She corrected, spinning around “Ka-Go-Me, got it? Go write _that_ on a mirror.” She was beginning to wonder if they were being pranked. If so, she was not amused.

 

She was the only one though-- Souta could hardly contain his rapture at this new discovery. “It _is_ the same name as the mirror writing!” he hurriedly set his recorded up again, “C’mon Sis, this is _awesome_ evidence!”

 

Kagome wanted to ask “of what?” but she couldn’t bring herself to dim the excitement in her brother’s eyes. The sound on the tape was pretty garbled, but she had to admit, the writing on the mirror was weird. It wasn’t as if the area had been very secure before they got there; someone certainly _could_ have come in and written the name before they had arrived, but for what _purpose_?

Beside her, oblivious to his sister’s concern, Souta was talking to the ghost again. He was trying to keep his voice very serious despite his obvious boyish glee. Watching him, Kagome found herself wanting to believe that this Kikyo thing really was just some weird coincidence. Souta might be a little naïve when it came to the paranormal, but he was a sweet kid and he meant well. If there was some kind of prank going on, whoever was pulling it better hope she never found out that they had messed with her kid brother.

 


	3. Ka-Go-Me! (AKA, "Let the Games Begin")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! One more, enjoy! :)

 

 _Kagome_ , _huh_ ? The hanyou frowned, then circled around so he could see the woman’s face. For someone claiming not to be Kikyo she sure _looked_ like the lying witch.

 

The kid  was still talking. Did he ever shut up?   _Feh_.

 

She wasn’t really _acting_ like Kikyo, the hanyou mused as Not-Kikyo spun around with her hands on her hips and started talking to the boy, cutting him off mid-stream. _So he does shut up_ . Actually, she didn’t act _anything_ like calm, collected Kikyo; Slightly cold Kikyo. This Ka-Go-Me was fiery and indigent. Her face... It was the same… but only almost. The same shape of the face, the same cheekbones and delicate jaw, but more rounded with youth. The eyes were more innocent. Besides that, they were _blue_.

 

So… not Kikyo.

 

Kagome. Though they were nearly identical, he could not deny that this was not the same woman... How could someone be identical to her? _“How do humans survive centuries unchanged, you idiot?”_ If he could have, he might have smacked himself. Since taking up his position on the edge of the void, not truly dead but held under a curse that kept him from the world of the living, how many human souls had the hanyou seen taken in and out of the void by the pallbearers of the dead? How many times had he seen them coming _back around_?

 

 _“Demons endure, humans reincarnate.”_ He knew this well enough. It was a part of the natural way of things. So, this girl must be Kikyo’s reincarnation…

… _Kikyo died_.

If she had been reincarnated, she _must_ have died. It was a strange thing to consider, but it should have been obvious. Kikyo had been badly wounded last time he saw her. He knew that even if she could have survived the injuries she could never have endured the centuries that had passed while he had been trapped on the God Tree. It was obvious that she was dead by now.

Still, it was one thing to know she must have died and quite another thing to be staring at the _proof_.

He approached the girl, careful not to become solid enough that the puny human eyes would be able to discern him from the shadows, and took in a deep breath of the girl’s scent.

 

It was a good thing the boy had started talking again, otherwise the groan that escaped the hanyou might have been audible on the tape as the hanyou forgot himself momentarily, drowning in that _scent._ Though he had been intending to see how it compared to Kikyo’s, there was no comparison. Fresh and light, this Kagome had the most pleasant scent he'd ever encountered in a human. Without meaning to, the hanyou found himself approaching the girl once again, hands outstretched for an entirely different reason.

 

This time it was her voice that brought him back from the throes of unthinking desire. She tossed her hair saucily and told her brother “but there _isn't_ a ghost here, Souta… and frankly,  if there is, it's a pretty lame one.”

 

Oh, thought he was _lame_ , did she?

 

Realizing he had missed some previous part of the conversation, The hanyou considered the girl. Her mouth-watering scent held notes of spice which, watching her face as she spoke, he realized was irritation. Was she _irritated_ with him?

 

He liked it.

 

Inhaling deeply of that spicy scent, he immediately resolved to draw her attention more fully to himself, where it should be. They would see how _lame_ she thought this ghost was by the end of the night.

Inhuman eyes gleamed gold as he drew the shadows around himself. Let the game begin.

 

\---

 

Souta Higurashi was having a _seriously_ cool night. His sister was being a huge drag-- no shock there-- but even with her negativity (she would call it “realism”, but that didn't phase him in the slightest), there was no doubt that in just over an hour he had accumulated some of the best evidence of his short paranormal investigating career.

 

The only damper on his ebullient mood was the fact that so much of it seemed to be centering on Kagome.

 

His sister didn't believe in the supernatural, as a result she typically rolled her eyes and shrugged off his offer of safety precautions before a hunt. This hadn’t caused her any trouble so far, but as far as Souta was concerned it was only a matter of time before she wished she had listened to him.

 

He fingered the silver cross around his neck thoughtfully as they walked together back into the foyer and into the main living area. Kagome didn't have any silver, salt or holy water on her tonight. That left her open to unknown forces-- maybe malevolent ones.

 

Souta resolved to watch out for her more carefully from now on. He was the experienced investigator after all, so it was right that this time he would take care of her. Souta might not be the most sober minded of boys, but he took his responsibilities to his family seriously. Whatever ghost was out there, it would be sorry if he caught it messing with his big sister.

Shining his flashlight on the entry to the cellar, Souta considered his options. Dark, cold, probably holding who-knows-what kind of cursed objects… heck, someone could even be buried down there, for all he knew! There were plenty of stories of that kind of thing happening in old houses.

 

There was no way he could let Kagome go down there, but he did want to check it out. Eyeing his sister consideringly, the thirteen year old hatched  a plan.

 

\--

 

They split up. Were they _trying_ to get eaten? The hanyou snorted to himself, irritated with the human siblings’ stupidity. Keh. It wasn't like they were particularly formidable together anyway. He shrugged it off. Stupid humans. They were lucky it was only him stalking them on this night.

 

Besides, it would make the games he had in mind so much easier, not to mention more entertaining.

 

He wanted her to scream.

 

He wanted to see that smug self-confidence wiped off her face. Wanted to be sure she wouldn't be so dangerously cocky in the future. He wanted her to run from him, like they all did. Like she ought to have done already. He wanted to wipe that ever-present smug self-confidence off of Kikyo’s fa--

 

No. No she wasn’t Kikyo. _Ka-go-me_ , right? He could feel the void gnawing at him, more strongly now that his emotions were riding so close to the surface, and he fought it, gritting his teeth and baring his fangs. He couldn’t afford to lose control. Not now.

 

The trapped spirit of the hanyou used the wall to push off, building a bit of speed. Skating closer to the unsuspecting girl, the predator surveyed his prey. First, he would get her attention: coming close behind her he reached out and, inhaling with the motion, reached out and ruffled her hair.

 

...And then frowned when she hardly reacted to his ghostly touch, just absently brushing the wayward strands back into place and muttering about “terrible siding”. _Seriously_ ? Wasn’t she supposed to have _miko powers_? How had this woman survived even this long on her own?

 

Trying again, this time he dragged his claws across her shoulder blades. The tips of his fingers brushed across the smooth green fabric of her uniform. Once again the little idiot shrugged him off: though she gave a little start, when she brushed her hands frantically over the fabric and shone the flashlight around on the floor he realized her shock was because she thought she had been touched by a _bug_. His lip curled in disgust. What part of “fearsome demonic ghost” was she not getting?

Deciding to go for audio-- it had a guaranteed scare factor in his experience-- the hanyou focused on building up his energy just enough to solidify his vocal chords and let lose a snarl which he had on _good authority_ was terrifying to humans. At least, enough of them had run from the sound in the past.

 

The infuriating woman froze and looked around, scanning with her flashlight. _Finally_! The hanyou was viciously pleased with his success… until she grabbed her walkie-talkie and radioed her brother. “Souta, be careful ok? I think I just heard a raccoon or something. You know how these old buildings can become infected with pests.”

 

If he could have the hanyou would have smacked his own forehead in frustration. It was going to be a long night.


End file.
